


Sweet dreams are made of this; Who am I to disagree?

by OmbreSuit



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: "Professor" Lehnsherr, 1AM Work, But Dreams, Dark (Little Bit), Dreams, Erik has Issues, Fluff, Hints To Apocalypse, M/M, Not Even Really Any Romance, Sleep, Sleepy Charles, Slight X Men Apocalypse Spoilers, Yes I Know It's First Class, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:52:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7102102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmbreSuit/pseuds/OmbreSuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erik and Charles are both platonic protective boyfriends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet dreams are made of this; Who am I to disagree?

**Author's Note:**

> My bite at a Cherik fic that isn't really...anything Cherik. Sorry :/  
> But, regardless, hope you enjoyed it!! Leave comments for feedback!

“ _Professor X_ ,” Erik teases, standing at the doorway of Charles’ room. He’s wearing a mocking smirk to match the mockery of the gray tracksuit he’s sporting. 

“Erik,” Charles absentmindedly returns, busy leafing through his desk.

It’s midnight, and everyone in the house is asleep, or too quiet to be a bother. Erik had come back from a late-night run around the Xavier property; trying to test out his new point of view. Charles, on the other hand, had been stuck in his study for hours; trying to find a new point of view.

“What are you looking for?”

Charles looked up for the first time, seeming to relax after pulling his eyes away from the clutter that is now his desk. Erik steps into the room, walking over to where Charles was. He lifts his eyebrows, anticipating an answer.

“It’s, um, some of my essays on mutations. I wanted to have them on hand for any new arrivals. I didn’t want to seem insensitive to our students,” Charles offers a small smile, resting his palm on the side of the desk.

“I see. Are you sure they’re here? They could be in your bedroom,” Erik proposes, staring at the mess on his friend's side of the study.

“Possibly. I hadn’t even thought to check there,” his eyes widen as if it were obvious that the papers were there. He grabs Erik’s arm, “Come with me.”

“Alright,” Erik says, a little confused. He didn’t realise why he was needed, but he figured he could help cover ‘more ground’ if he went with Charles. So he did, and the two men walked across the lobby to Charles’ bedroom.

Thankfully, it wasn’t as disorderly there. Erik used his powers to shift some things away, while Charles rooted around. It wasn’t very long until Charles held up a stack of papers in triumph.

“Ta-da! Found them. Thank you, Erik,” he smiles, setting the essays on his bed and beginning to clean up the mess.

“Telepathy isn’t as useful as you think,” Charles jokes, “Telekinesis is more practical.”

“Maybe one day you’ll get a student like that,” Erik rests his hip on the door frame, watching as Charles quickly tries to clear the objects off the floors.

“I wouldn’t use one of my students like that,” a tinge of irritation makes it’s way into Charles’ words, and Erik can’t help but feel a little responsible.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Charles. I only meant that-,” he stops, realising that he would only make things worse for wear.

His friend turns around, holding leather-bound novels in both of his hands. His blue eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks tired. Erik scrunches his eyebrows, surprised he missed that fact. He moves little from his position; straightening.

“I know you didn’t. Apologies,I haven’t been feeling very _groovy_ lately,” Charles quietly laughs, slowly continuing his organising.

“Go to bed, Charles,” Erik says, grabbing the books and papers out of his friend’s hands.

At the word _bed_ , Charles sways a little. Erik quickly sets the objects to the side, ready to catch his friend if need be. Charles grasps his head, as if he had suddenly gotten a headache. His eyebrows furrow, and he bites his bottom lip.

“Charles?” Erik asks, his hands shooting outward towards his friend, “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” he says. Any evidence of the prior pain dissipates, as soon as Charles ends his sentence.

Erik hesitantly nods in affirmation.

Charles provides a reassuring smile, and turns around to continue cleaning. Soon, Erik joins him, and the areas that had previously been in disarray, weren’t. Charles sits on his bed, the mutation essays on his lap. He pats near him, suggesting that Erik join him. He does, and Charles puts an essay on Erik’s lap.

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to seem insensitive either.”

Erik chuckles, and picks up the essay, looking at it, unsure whether or not he should actually read it. When he looks back at Charles, he sees that his friend is already a few pages into the essay.

“How can you read something you’ve written?”

“How do you mean?” Charles glances at Erik, confused.

“Wouldn’t what you learned be second-nature? You’re a professor in this, aren’t you?”

Charles sets down the essay in his lap, “Yes, I am a professor, Erik. But I can always learn more. And truly, I have already learned everything I’m reading, but with the week I’ve been having, it wouldn’t hurt to touch up on a few things.”

Erik nods, “Of course. But why should we be going through the process of being _insensitive_ while we have Banshee and Havok being clueless?”

“They’re children, Erik. We need to take responsibility when they cannot. It’s part of being an adult, and a professor.”

“I’m not a professor, Charles.”

“If you stay, you can be.”

“I’m hardly qualified, Charles. Unlike you and Hank, I haven’t had much time to study sciences and genetics.”

Charles rests his hand on Erik’s shoulder, feeling a little heat rising from the other man’s body. He shifts the essays out of the way--onto the floor--and he turns Erik to face him completely.

“Why do you constantly doubt yourself? True, you haven’t learned these things, but that doesn’t mean you _can’t_ learn. You don’t have to know those things to be a professor, either. You could teach the students how to use self-defense, or literature. I know you’ve been reading some of my books,” Charles smiles.

Erik stays silent, gazing at the man in front of him. Charles pats his shoulder, sighing.

“Good evening, Erik. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

The other man stands, and walks out of the room. Charles watches, waiting for a change in demeanor from his friend. But, nothing happens, and he lays back onto his bed, turning off the lamp.

###### 

He can hear his screaming from down the hall. It takes everything out of him to try and not run down there. When Erik first arrived at Charles’ house, he told him to never interfere with his sleep. That no matter what he heard, he could never help. This was the first night that the terrors bothered Erik, Charles knew. They had been at the house for a measly three days, but in that period of time, this was the first.

It was then, that he didn’t really know whether or not the screams were audible, or just in his head. It scared him, to think that he could possibly be linked to Erik in such a way that he heard everything, without trying. He climbed out of his bed, his feet barely grazing the floor before he heard the resounding sound of anguish. He shuffled out of his dark room, opening his door to reveal a pale light. It was very early in the morning, Charles realised, and he knew that in order to do anything tomorrow, he needed to rest. To do this, he had to do something to quiet Erik.

No one was in this wing except him and Erik. Raven had her own room, which Hank had decided to stake out near. Havok and Banshee had gone near them, but far enough for privacy. Moira, of course, had her own apartment. Charles’ mind wondered why Erik decided to adopt the same wing as himself, but it was too busy fighting off the screams to develop any theories.

When Charles finally reaches Erik’s bedroom door, he hesitates. Sure, he wanted the peace and quiet to resume. But he had promised Erik never to interfere, and he knew from Raven’s own nightmares that intervening could lead to repercussions. The early light illuminated Erik’s doorknob, and that’s all it took for Charles to open the door. Closing the door behind him, he made his way towards the shifting figure of Erik. He decides against turning on the lamp, for fear of frightening Erik more. So, he pulls a chair up next to the bed, and watches. Charles tries tapping into Erik’s mind, and he finds his victory when he is thrust into a dark forest.

He sees, in the foggy distance, three figures. One of which, he notes, is Erik. He wears a plaid shirt and jeans, something Charles has never seen him wear. Erik is huddled over two bodies; feminine, from the looks of them. Charles stalks closer, hiding behind trees as he does so. He hears wailing, and that, he realises, was the screaming. As he gets closer, he sees a thin shaft protruding from the three figures. It’s then, that Charles looks around. His breathing and pulse quickens, when he sees soldiers surrounding the forest. It was something from a horror novel, he thinks. Standing there, the soldiers judge from afar. The fog gives them a wispy-black texture, and Charles fears what may happen if he goes near any of them.

He creeps closer to Erik, and he hears quiet sobbing. Charles slightly grasps a tree trunk to move him ever-so slightly closer. He sees an older woman, around Erik’s age, and a young girl, about the age of Raven when she had first met Charles. He assumed that they were his mother and sister, from Auschwitz. However, the intimacy and kisses from Erik made him think otherwise.

It wasn’t until he tried to reach out to another tree that he discovered the temperature difference. One step closer to Erik, and it was like he was in an inferno. It was too hot for a winter forest, and Charles could only presume it was due to the emotions that Erik was holding. He knew it was too paradoxical to try to tap into _this_ Erik, and see what he’s thinking. So, he decides to face the heat and walk closer to the huddle.

“No...I’m so sorry.”

Charles stops in his tracks, hearing Erik sob the words. The woman and girl, he soon notices, are stuck together. With every small movement Erik did to one, it moved the other. A hand reflexively goes to Charles’ mouth. Even though it’s a dream, it feels so _real_. The pain and sadness emanating from Erik was too real, but Charles didn’t know if he should just leave, or if he should take Erik from this pain as well. He decides to go with the former. He wasn’t supposed to do anything, so the least he could do is let Erik deal with the last himself. It wrenched his heart to turn around from the scene, to not be able to help his friend with this. However, as he turns, he comes face to face with a soldier. A dead soldier, with blood splatter on his neck. Charles knew he shouldn’t make a sound, but when the soldier draws his bow, and the cold metal tip is on Charles’ stomach, he does.

“No!”

Charles whips around, and he sees Erik his hand out, freezing the arrow, and tossing it aside. The emotions in Erik’s eyes torture Charles. Though, Erik hadn’t known it to be Charles. Just as another victim in his dream. So, when Charles stepped away from the tree, the emotions boiled down to one: _hatred_. Charles prepares to leave, but before he does, he hears Erik mutter something, something that didn’t make sense until after he tapped out of the dream.

“I’m sorry, Charles.”

###### 

Charles fights off the drowsiness as Erik wakes from his. He knows it’s useless to escape before Erik sees him, partially because he knew he would find out one way or another. So he waits for his friend to wake up.

Soon enough, he does, “Why are you here?”

“I couldn’t go to sleep,” Charles says, knowing it’s not a lie.

“Didn’t I tell you not to interfere?” Erik is sitting up now, more alert. He flicks on the lamp on his bedside table, waiting for Charles to respond.

Charles nods, slightly shielding his eyes from the bright light.

“Why did you, then?” Erik demands, glaring at Charles.

“I wanted to sleep,” Charles offers.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing...Erik.”

Erik slides out of bed, placing his hands on the arms of Charles’ chair, “You’re lying.”

“Erik!” Charles says with disbelief, “I’m sorry.You were screaming, and I-I wanted to make sure you were alright. I didn’t want to nothing when I could have done something.”

Erik scoffs, pushing off of the chair, and sitting back in bed, “Alright.”

Charles rests his head in his right hand, propping it up on the arm of the chair. He and Erik look at each other for a while.

“You wanted to make sure I was fine?” Erik finally says, raising an eyebrow.

“Believe it or not, Erik, not everyone is as cold as Shaw is.”

Erik snorts, a smirk making its way onto his lips. He nods, “Of course.”

Charles smiles, relaxing, and he starts to snuggle into the chair a bit more. Erik sees this, and offers to walk him back to his bedroom.

“Why? Feeling chivalrous?”

“I don’t want you to fall asleep in the hallway.”

Charles chuckles, “Fair enough.”

They start to walk out of Erik’s room, and when they open the door, the early light gets brighter.

“So much for a good night’s rest,” Charles mutters, waiting for Erik to close the door.

“The faster we get to your room, the more sleep you can get, Charles,” Erik says, sounding more like a parent with each word.

Charles snickers, starting to feel the drowsy-humor. But that passes, when he gets chills. He’s never particularly liked them, and he curses himself for not bringing a robe with him to check on Erik.

“Cold?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Erik wraps an arm around Charles, and he instantly warms. He reflexively moves closer to Erik, and rests his head on the crook of Erik’s neck. His eyes slowly close, and Erik notices. They stop walking, about halfway from Charles’ bedroom. In a fit of convenience, Erik picks up Charles, and carries him to his friend’s room. It was a little bit of a struggle to open the door, but he made do. It wasn’t until he laid Charles down, that his friend started talking. The wispy sound of Charles in his head made him sit down.

‘Did you just carry me like a bride?’

“Convenience, Charles.”

‘We could have kept walking.’

“We could have. But we didn’t.”

‘You didn’t.’

“Go to bed, Charles. None of us want a drowsy professor.”

Charles chuckles, ‘They’ll only have one drowsy professor. They still have you.’

Erik shakes his head, recalling the previous conversation about this, “They need you.”

‘They need both of us.’

“Why? I haven’t done anything, while you’ve gotten more recruits, given them a place to stay.”

‘You helped get the recruits. You convinced me that getting them by ourselves was more beneficial. You’ve helped Sean control his powers. A little unorthodox, I must say, but you did.’

Erik smiles from the memory of pushing Sean off the side of the satellite dish, “You were thinking the same thing, Charles.”

‘How could you possibly know that?’

“I just do.”

‘So, _Professor Lehnsherr_ , are you up for the task of teaching our students?’

“Go to sleep, Charles.”

The heaviness of having his friend in his head fades, and he hears Charles slightly snore. He smirks, and covers up his friend. He debates waiting here, and not risking going back to sleep. He has a feeling that if he tried to walk back to his bedroom, it would already be time for breakfast. So, he curls up in his chair, and watches Charles sleep. As creepy as it felt, it brought him a sort of serenity. That’s what Charles wanted, wasn’t it?


End file.
